


Letters

by delightfulalot



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightfulalot/pseuds/delightfulalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in early 2008, post-series and pre-election. Rory gets a package from Jess, out of the blue, and suddenly they're sending notes back and forth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through some stuff I'd written ages ago and came across this, that apparently never appeared on the internet in any form? I last worked on it on February 12, 2008 and you tell just how old it is by the Borders references. Anyway, since I've always kind of liked it, I thought I should share it! Enjoy!

When she saw the return address, she just _had_ to open the package right that second, even though it meant that she stood awkwardly in the hotel lobby, tearing at the tape with her fingers, and it probably took longer than if she'd taken it up to her room and poked it with the scissors from her manicure set. But it _felt_ faster, and that's all that mattered really. When the only thing that came out was a pair of gloves in a plastic bag, she didn't know what to think. She ran her fingers along the bottom of the box, trying to see if there was a card or something, and only when she dropped her gaze to the floor did she see half a sheet of notebook paper that had obviously fallen from her box. 

 

_Heard it was going to be cold in DC_

_Keep warm_

_J_

 

On the way up to her room, she examined the gloves a little more closely. They were cerulean blue and matched her eyes perfectly, and they were insanely soft--in her room, she held them out to her roommate for the night, who rubbed them between her fingers and said, "Ooh, cashmere. Somebody's getting some nice perks." 

 

"They're not from work," she explained half-heartedly, but the other woman just raised her eyebrows and went back to her laptop. 

 

She turned the gloves over in her hand. Cashmere. He'd given her cashmere gloves? That had to be expensive, didn't it? But very lucky. She glanced at the swirling snow outside the window and shivered involuntarily. Her own gloves were threadbare, and when they'd been in New Hampshire last month, her fingers had almost fallen off.  

 

She slipped on the gloves. They molded to her skin, and immediately made her hands warmer. "Perfect," she murmured. 

 

She pulled them off and ripped a sheet of paper from her reporter's notebook. 

 

_Thanks for the gloves; they were just what I needed. Don't forget to vote in your upcoming primary!_

_R_

 

The next night when she looked over her note before sending it off, she crumpled it into a ball, disgusted. "Don't forget to vote"? Who _said_ that? She ripped another sheet of paper and wrote about the night before. 

 

_DC was an amazing experience. I've never seen so many Kennedys in my life! Sadly, I did not get to meet any of them, let alone convince them to let me in the family, and thus my lifelong dream of weekends in Hyannis Port are sadly unrealized. Oh, well. Maybe next time._

_R_

 

_\--_

 

When she got to the motel in Los Angeles, there was a package waiting for her at the front desk. Obviously he'd sent her something as soon as he'd gotten her note, and Lorelai had wasted no time forwarding it on. This time, she waited until she got to her room to open the package, which was smaller but heavier than the last one. This one contained, in a very cheap glasses case, Ray-Ban sunglasses. 

 

_It's not as cold in LA, but it sure is bright. Sorry about that Kennedys thing; maybe you can meet a Shriver instead, and weasel your way into Hyannis Port gatherings that way? I've heard Maria likes Tom Cruise, so that's why the Ray-Bans. Wear them with pride, but don't get into Scientology, okay?_

_J_

 

She wrote back: 

 

_Sadly, I didn't get to meet Maria either! Hillary sure did shoot me some weird looks, though. I resent your implication that I would "weasel" my way into anything. I'm charming enough that once I meet a Kennedy, they will just be falling all over themselves to invite me into the family. Tom Cruise did not recruit me into Scientology, though he tried--I didn't even meet him, and still he tried._

_R_

 

_\--_

 

She had a short trip home--just a weekend, really, before Super Tuesday and two dozen primaries and the headache _that_ presented (would Barack win? Would Hillary win? Would one of them drop out? Would Ron Paul suddenly come from behind and blow everyone out of the water?) and she was only a little surprised to find an envelope waiting for her. 

 

_Sorry, don't know where you are today, and don't have time to think up something to send you. We're trying to get the taxes for the bookstore done early this year; it's Matt's birthday; and not one, but three local authors have decided our store is where they want to have signings. It's a total mess here, but I'm dropping a line to say: glad to see Tom Cruise has no power over you, sorry to hear you have to worry about fighting off Hillary now. Very sad to hear that your lifelong dream of Hyannis Port (which I haven't heard about before--are you sure it's real?) has hit another snag. Maybe you should work on being a bodybuilder from Austria, as that seems to have worked. Maybe it only works once, though._

_Jess_

 

_Your letter actually found me at home, for once. I'm hoping if I go to sleep for long enough, Super Tuesday will be over and I won't have to write anything about it. Do you think that could happen? I assure you that my dream of living in Hyannis Port is very real; just because I concealed my Kennedy love from you does not make it any less real. The Kennedys and I have been involved since I was seven and first learned all the presidents. I'm a bit worried about fighting off Hillary, too. Do you think Bill gets jealous? Sadly, I don't think I have the upper body strength to be a bodybuilder. Yesterday I couldn't open a mini jar of instant coffee. Of course, the day before, I accidentally ripped a hole in my styrofoam cup with my coffee stirrer, so maybe there's hope after all. I hope your tax-doing works out well; wish Matt a happy birthday from me. I'm not surprised to hear about the local authors. If I were in Philadelphia, I absolutely would want to hold my signing there. Or Borders. Is there a Borders there?_

_I'll have to see you the next time I come through there--I'll let you know._

_Rory_

 

_\--_

 

_Borders! They all could have gone to Borders! Oh, well. At least we got their patronage. Maybe we'll make a profit this year. How did that Super Tuesday thing work out for you? Are you still sleeping? Did I wake you up with my letter? Sorry if I did, but at least it's not a phone call, with all the incessant ringing. I should know; I'm thinking about unplugging the phone here...but I guess customers aren't_ _all_ _bad. Yesterday, the electric bill came...and I paid it. Right then and there. It was a very exciting moment. Are you in the Midwest again? Is it ridiculously boring, as everyone expects it to be, or is it infinitely more awesome?_

_Jess_

 

_Super Tuesday passed much the way we all thought it would be--it looks like the fight keeps going 'til the Convention in August. I've always wanted to see Denver, at least. That's got to be one of the best things about this job--I am definitely seeing the country. The cons would include the fact that I live out of a suitcase, I haven't had a decent cup of coffee in months, and yes, sometimes places you think are boring? Really are that boring. Though the cities are amazing (Chicago, anyone?), the little towns don't usually hold a candle to_ _my_ _little town. Thanks for the 'not-ringing' thing, though sometimes a phone call can be nice, you know? But sometimes, not so nice, like right now when I'm on a deadline. More later!_

_Rory_

 

Right before sealing the envelope, she slipped in a piece of paper containing all her known hotels and addresses for the next few weeks. It was the fourth time she'd slipped it in there, but this time it had to stay, because then she closed the envelope and slipped the letter into the mail slot. 

 

"That's that," she thought, almost wishing she could grab that letter right back, before heading back to her room. 

 

_\--_

 

_You're in Maine! And I know this because you told me. Such a handy slip of paper this is. I did notice, though, that Philadelphia is not on here. Is this because you're not coming, or you just haven't told me about it? I know that you're probably going to be running around in the next few months, but maybe you can stop by some time? Only if you're in town, of course. I've included another little something for you to keep warm in Maine. Enjoy._

_Jess_

 

Underneath the letter was a cream-colored scarf that seemed as soft as the gloves, so it had to be cashmere. It was lightweight but warm, and seemed perfect as she wound it around her neck. Looking down, she noticed three letters embroidered along the bottom: _LLG_. Her initials. Obviously this wasn't a spur of the moment purchase. 

 

_Wow, Jess! This is an amazing scarf. I can't believe you got this for me! And the gloves. Seriously, a cashmere scarf_ _and_ _cashmere gloves? I feel incredibly spoiled. I hardly even know what to say. What_ _can_ _I say? What can I do to repay you? These are wonderful gifts, and I don't know what I did to deserve them._

 

She didn't sign this letter, just stuffed it into the envelope and sent it on its merry way. It was the first time she'd written his name, and the first time she'd mentioned the gifts. She didn't know what kind of response her letter would prompt, but she only hoped that he _would_ respond, somehow. 

 

\--

 

She didn't get a letter the next week, or the week after that. The third week without any contact, she had two days of meetings in New York and then a week off. After she left her last meeting, she got into her car, turned the car on and the heat up, and slowly removed her gloves and scarf. As she set them on her passenger seat, an idea started to form in her mind, and suddenly she was on the highway and trying to program her GPS for Philadelphia, all steely determination. 

 

When she got to Truncheon Books, it was after dark and after dinnertime, and she was hungry, and tired, but she got out of the car anyway, and made her way into the bookstore. It was relatively empty; there were a few people scattered around, but she didn't pay attention to them, instead walking straight for the counter, behind which the person she had come to see was standing. 

 

"Rory," he said, standing up straight. 

 

"Why haven't you written me back?" she asked, waving around one glove, the other one still on. 

 

"Because if I had, would you have shown up?" He had the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

 

"Don't smirk at me," she muttered, tearing off her second glove. 

 

"I'm actually surprised it's taken you this long," he continued. 

 

"And don't say you're not smirking, because I can see it coming." She pulled the scarf from around her neck and finally looked straight up at him. He smiled. 

 

"Not wearing the sunglasses?" 

 

"No, it's--," she started angrily, gesturing outside. She stopped, realizing it was a joke. She smiled back. "It's dark outside." 

 

"So it is." 

 

"Yes, it is." She set the gloves and scarf on the counter. "So you stopped writing to get me to come by?" 

 

"Well, I would have thought you'd gotten the hint from my last letter. Actually I was afraid I'd been too transparent." 

 

She shook her head, not understanding. He sighed. 

 

"I asked why Philadelphia wasn't on your list, and then told you to stop by." 

 

She put a hand over her mouth, but a short little laugh escaped. "I don't even remember that! I guess the scarf kinda overpowered everything else." 

 

He didn't say anything, just nodded, looking at his gifts where she'd set them on the counter, and how her fingers kept touching them. 

 

"I really like it. The gloves too," she said, trying to get him to look at her. 

 

"I'm glad you're here," he said, meeting her eyes. 

 

"Me, too." She kept toying with the gloves while she said, "Actually, I'm off for about a week." 

 

"Really?" 

 

"Really." 

 

"Any plans?" 

 

"Not yet." She smiled, and said, "What've you got for me?" 

 

He smiled. 


End file.
